Time on the Trail
In the spring of 2025, I was in the middle of what I call my old-lady Gap Year. As I mentioned in Confessions of the Weakest Superhero, I had quit my job with nothing lined up and gave myself some time off: three months traveling in Europe, and another month at a yoga school in Thailand. After Chinese New Year, I came back to Hong Kong and started sending out CVs, trying to find a job or some new direction for my life. While waiting to hear back, I didn't want to just sit at home watching TV all day, so I pulled out an unfinished novel I had set aside and finished it, just to give myself something to do.
During those three months in Europe, with no work stress and plenty of walking every day, I ended up losing four kilos without trying. Mentally and physically, I was the healthiest I had ever been. Back in Hong Kong, I really wanted to keep that going, so I kept hiking regularly. Around dusk, I would walk up to the Peak on my own as my regular exercise, a kind of walking meditation. Honestly, I had never dared to hike alone. I know my stamina is fine, but I always imagine something going wrong or having an accident by myself on a trail. The Peak is different, though: it's so popular that there are always people around, so I never felt worried going by myself.
However, after walking that same trail for a while, even with the nice views and the walking meditation, I started getting a bit bored. That was when I joined Meetup to find hiking groups so I could follow other people. I joined Robert's group—he's a retiree from the UK, and most of the members are retired too. His routes are fairly gentle and easy for most people to handle. Walking with him every week, I learned routes I had never known before. Along with the Saturday social meetups I was hosting, my phone quietly filled up with photos and videos of Hong Kong's hills and coastline.
Moving Postcards for Strangers
After a while of hiking and writing, I realized I needed a new project. Looking back, I think I always need some kind of personal project for myself. Years ago it was the blog, then it was running Meetup groups. Now I needed a creative project to keep my brain moving, otherwise I would be bored to death.
Like I wrote in Branching, Not Giving Up, people like us never lack passion; what we lack is a container to hold our curiosity together. So in May 2025, I opened a new Instagram account: @love.in.hongkong. I wanted to use it to record the beauty of Hong Kong.
My first post was very simple. It was me, sitting in front of the colorful Choi Hung Estate, whose name means "rainbow" in Cantonese. I chose "Somewhere Over the Rainbow" as the background song, and wrote: "A wanderer who wandered to Hongkong years ago and now called this city home. Let me show you my love of Hongkong." Maybe I was hoping to find a little treasure at the end of that rainbow.
Looking back, it felt like I was doing the same thing I had always done. As I wrote in 15.6k Posts, 800 Followers, back when I was studying in the US, I used to make PowerPoint travel diaries for family and friends. Later in Hong Kong, I started a blog to write about my travels and my life. Over the years, walking through places, I saw beautiful things and had new experiences, and I just wanted to share that happiness with the people I loved, so they could see what I saw and feel what I felt. Now the format had changed to Instagram reels, but I was still that same Sophia, telling stories. Only this time, I wasn't just talking to family and friends. I was talking to the whole world.
What Is a Content Creator Anyway
To be honest, back then I didn't understand influencers at all. I didn't even know what KOL stood for, and had to look it up online to learn it meant "Key Opinion Leader." I also didn't get why everyone was suddenly calling themselves a "content creator." What content? Are they making things up? Or just doing silly things to go viral?
Around that time, people started using Instagram like a business card. Some had "Digital Creator" next to their name, but when you looked at their profile, the layout and photos looked... not great. Who gave these people the right to call themselves "creators"?
I had so many questions, and if I'm being honest, down deep I probably looked down on them a bit. I thought of myself as a trained designer doing serious design work, and I didn't think these people really qualified as creators. On top of that, I would never do silly things just for the sake of being silly, or make some strange spectacle of myself just to get attention and go viral.
Yet people are full of contradictions. Even while looking down on it all, I secretly hoped that one of my reels would suddenly blow up. What if I became a KOL, got brand deals, and could film beautiful things for a living? What if traveling and making videos could become my actual job? Maybe Andy Warhol was right that in the future, everyone gets fifteen minutes of fame. That future felt like right now, and everyone was trying to grab their chance to become the next KOL.
Even with that quiet hope, I still had my own principles. I refused to do silly stunts, couldn't stand the fake-surprised reels people staged, and hated that narcissistic style where people walk around filming their own faces. Looking back, I was stubborn and definitely a bit full of myself. That uncomfortable mix of resisting something new while holding onto my pride was exactly how I felt when I first encountered AI, like I wrote in The Longer You Stay in the Dark.
A Year of Quiet Stubbornness
Because of that stubbornness, for the next whole year, I just kept doing what I thought was good: filming quiet corners of Hong Kong that people might not know, pairing them with nice music, and editing them into quiet reels without dialogue.
During that year, my Instagram and Facebook were constantly showing me ads for content strategy courses and paid memberships. I didn't have a job then, so I was being careful with my money, and there was no way I was going to buy a paid course. So I just searched online, hoping to find a clue. People were always talking about "engagement" and "value," but those words felt so vague to me. Every time I read them, I couldn't help thinking: I'm showing people beautiful places they might not know about—isn't that giving them value?
Reality was very quiet. That whole year, even though I felt I was providing value, hardly anyone watched my videos. Most reels got a few hundred views at most. In that quiet silence where nobody seemed to care, I just kept filming, editing, and posting.
The Sound of the Noon Gun
Then, about a year after starting the account, I was out on a relaxed walk along the waterfront with Robert's group. Someone mentioned that we could go watch the Noon Gun. I had walked that promenade countless times and had seen the cannon before, but I had no idea it was actually fired every day at noon. How amazing is that?
That day, I saw it fired at noon for the first time, and it gave me something new to share on Instagram: down by the water in Causeway Bay, there is a real cannon fired every day at noon, and a lot of people (including me, after more than a decade in Hong Kong) have no idea it's there.
When I posted the video, completely out of the blue, it went viral.
That cannon shot was loud and clear. Out of nowhere, it broke through the silent dead end I hadn't been able to get out of all year. It was a huge surprise, like a spark cutting through the fog, and it made me stop and wonder what had just happened.
Why that video took off, and where following that spark led me next, is another story.
什麼是 KOL
一個設計師的創作計畫，與銅鑼灣的一聲炮響
山徑上的空白時光
二〇二五年的春天，我正在進行我的老女人的 Gap Year。在〈最弱超級英雄的告白：令人恐懼的「五年計畫」〉裡我提過，那段時間我裸辭，給了自己一段空白，先在歐洲旅行三個月，又到泰國的瑜伽學校上了一個月的課。過完農曆新年回到香港，我開始四處投履歷找工作，也想替人生找到一個新方向。在等待回音的空檔裡，我不想整天坐在家裡看電視，於是翻出以前沒寫完的小說，把它寫完，好給自己找點事情做。
在歐洲的三個月，因為完全沒有工作壓力，再加上每天都在走路觀光，不知不覺瘦了四公斤，覺得我的身心進入人生最健康的時候。回到香港之後，我很想把這樣的狀態維持下去，便繼續規律地爬山。我會在傍晚的時候，一個人走上太平山頂，把它當成我的規律運動，一個動態冥想過程。其實我本來是不敢自己一個人爬山的。雖然我知道我的體力沒問題，但我總是幻想自己一人爬山有可能出意外。不過，太平山是個很熱門的景點跟運動路徑，山徑上隨時都有人，一個人去也不用擔心。
不過，同一條路徑重複走一陣子後，即使風景很美，即使我的目的是運動跟動態冥想，我還是覺得有點無聊。所以後來，我開始加入 Meetup 的登山團，這樣我就能跟著別人一起走。我參加了 Robert 的登山團，他是一位從英國來的退休人士，團員也大多已經退休，而他選的路徑多半比較輕鬆，適合大部分人的體力。我每週跟著 Robert，學到了一些以前不知道的新路線。再加上我自己週六會辦的聚會活動，我的手機裡不知不覺存下了好多香港的山、香港的海。
給陌生人的動態明信片
爬山爬了一陣子，小說也寫了一陣子，我發現，我需要一個新專案。回想起來，我好像一直都需要某種個人專案，以前是寫部落格，後來是辦 Meetup 社交聚會，而現在我需要一個「創作計畫」讓腦袋保持運轉，不然我會。無。聊。到。死。
就像我在〈不是半途而廢〉裡寫過的，我們這種人缺的從來不是熱情，而是一個能把好奇心整合起來的「容器」。於是在二〇二五年五月，我開了一個新的 Instagram 帳號：@love.in.hongkong。我想用這個帳號，記錄香港的美麗風景。
我的第一則貼文很簡單，是一張我在彩虹邨籃球場的照片，配上〈Somewhere Over the Rainbow〉的音樂。我寫下的文字是：「一個多年前流浪到香港的旅人，如今把這座城市當成家。讓我帶著你，看看我愛的香港。」或許，我也希望能在彩虹的盡頭，找到一點寶藏吧。
現在想一想，我似乎一直在做同一件事。就像我在〈一萬五千則貼文，八百個追蹤者〉裡寫的，以前在美國念書，我用 PowerPoint 寫旅行日記寄給家人朋友，後來到香港，我開了部落格，記錄我的旅行、我的人生故事。這些年來，我走在陌生的土地上，看到不少美景，經歷不同的體驗，而我想把這些美好的回憶分享給我愛的人，讓他們看見我看見的、感受我感受的。如今我的分享工具變成了 IG 短影音，而我依然是那個喜歡說故事的 Sophia。只不過這一次，我說話的對象不再只是家人和朋友，而是全世界。
什麼是內容創作者
老實說，我那時候根本搞不懂網紅這件事。我甚至連 KOL 這三個英文字母代表什麼都不知道，還特地上網去查，才知道原來是「關鍵意見領袖」。我也不懂為什麼後來大家都開始自稱「內容創作者（Content Creator）」。什麼內容？是在編故事嗎？還是做一些蠢事，只為了爆紅？
那陣子許多人開始把 Instagram 當成社交名片，有些人的名字旁邊寫著「數位創作者（Digital Creator）」，但點進他們的頁面一看，排版和照片都實在是……不太美觀……到底這些人憑什麼稱自己是創作者啊？
我腦袋裡有好多問題。而且，當時的我，可能心底是看不起這些人的吧。我覺得自己是一個受過專業訓練的設計師，做的是正正經經的設計，覺得這些人沒有資格稱自己是創作者。再來，我也絕不會為了「想做蠢事而做蠢事」，刻意去做一些莫名其妙的舉動，只是想要引人注意，然後趁機拍影片爆紅。
可是，人真的很矛盾，雖然表面上很不屑，我心底卻偷偷期待著：說不定哪天我的某支短影音突然爆紅了，我也成了 KOL，能接到品牌合作，把拍美麗的東西當成工作，甚至可以把旅行當成我的工作。邊旅行邊拍片。
或許，就像安迪·沃荷說的「在未來，每個人都有機會成名十五分鐘」，而這個未來就是現在，然後每個人都想要抓住那個成名的機會，成為下一個 KOL。
但即使心裡有這樣的幻想，我還是有自己的原則。我拒絕做蠢事，看不慣刻意假裝驚訝的做作短影音，也受不了拿著鏡頭對著自己邊走邊拍的「自戀」風格。回想起來，我當時真的是既固執又有點自以為是。這種面對新事物時既排斥、又放不下身段的彆扭，其實就跟我剛開始接觸 AI 時一模一樣，正如我在〈在黑暗裡待得越久〉裡寫過的。
一年裡安靜的堅持
因為這份固執，接下來整整一年，我持續做著我認為好的事情：把那些大家可能不知道的美麗角落拍下來，配上好聽的音樂，剪成一支支安靜（沒有對白）的短影音。
那一年，我的 Instagram 和臉書常常跳出各種內容策略課程和付費會員的廣告。當時的我，沒工作，每天只能省吃儉用，更不可能去買什麼付費課程。所以我只能自己上網搜尋，想找到一點線索。網路上的人總是在談「互動」和「價值」，那些詞對我來說好含糊。而且，我每次讀到都忍不住在心裡想：我把大家不知道的美麗角落拍出來分享，難道這不就是在「提供價值」嗎？
可是現實卻很安靜。那一年，儘管我覺得我已經在我的影片裡提供價值，看我影片的人並不多，大部分短影音頂多只有幾百次觀看。我就這樣在幾乎無人問津的安靜裡，繼續拍著、剪著、發布著。
銅鑼灣的那一聲炮響
帳號開了大約一年後的某一天，我跟著 Robert 的團沿著海濱走，悠閒散步。當時有人提到待會可以去銅鑼灣看午炮。那段海濱我走過不知道多少次，那門炮我也看過，卻從來不知道它每天中午真的會準時鳴放。真是太神奇了。
那天，我第一次親眼看到它在中午鳴放，也多了一個新題材可以放上 IG：銅鑼灣的海邊，有一門真正的大炮，每天中午都會準時鳴放，很多人（包括在香港住了十幾年的我）卻根本不知道它的存在。
影片發出去之後，完全出乎我的意料，它就這樣爆紅了。
那一聲炮響，又大又清楚。毫無預警地，它打破了我這一年來轉不出去的寂靜死路。它給了我一個巨大的驚喜，像是一道穿透迷霧的火花，讓我停下腳步，開始好奇剛才到底發生了什麼事。
至於那支短影音為什麼會爆紅，而順著這個火花又把我帶往了哪裡，那又是另一個故事了。